No Rhyme or Reason
by DobbyRocksSocks
Summary: Based on The Time Traveler's Wife. It didn't take long for Piers to realise that while his time hops seemed to have no rhyme or reason, he was always drawn to those that were important to him.


**Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.**

 **Written for QL, Finals R1.**

 _Holyhead Harpies, Beater 2_

 **Mandatory Prompt** \- Time Traveler's Wife

 **Optional Prompts** \- Gratitude / Disgust

 **Word Count** \- 1849

 _Beta'd by Lo, Sam and Jenny_

* * *

 **No Rhyme Or Reason**

* * *

 _It didn't take long for him to realise that while his time hops seemed to have no rhyme or reason, he was always drawn to those that were important to him._

 _The first time Piers met Dean, the man had known him for years. It was a strange concept, and it made Piers' head spin, but he'd long since resigned himself to his life not making much sense._

 _Dean explained to him that Piers had been coming to him ever since he was a boy. Piers could only nod and shrug, because really, what else was there to do?_

 _Before the time hops had started, Piers would have told you that he'd love to time travel. The reality of it was entirely different than he could have ever expected._

…

"Piers!"

Piers blinked at the man who clearly knew him. "Erm. Hi?"

"Oh. Oh, is this the first…" the man trailed off, suddenly looking unsure. "Is this your first time hop?"

"You… know about the…" he floundered for way to describe it, "...thing?"

"Yeah," the man said, smiling. "We've met a few times over the years."

"Huh."

"I'm Dean. It feels weird to be introducing myself to you when we… well."

Piers frowned. "When we what?"

Dean lifted his left hand, showing a tasteful silver ring to Piers. "We're engaged, Piers."

Piers blinked. "What?"

Dean chuckled. "This house is ours, babe. We moved in last year."

"I, erm. Hi?"

…

The house welcomed him, the sun shining over the pretty garden. Piers whistled as he walked up to the door, pushing it open.

"Dean?" he called, hoping his fiance was home. As far as Piers was aware, they'd only just bought the house, but since he had no idea what year it was, he didn't know what to expect.

Dean skidded into view, eyes wide and face paling.

"Piers," he gasped. "I. You."

"Heya babe," Piers murmured, moving closer to press his lips to Dean's. "You look like you've seen a ghost, what's wrong."

"You… Piers, you died. A year ago, you arrived with slices all over you and you… you died in my arms. You…"

Piers stumbled back, leaning against the wall. "Wow."

Dean nodded, but moved so that he was pressed up against Piers, pressing kisses all over his face. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Yeah, I…" Piers caught sight of a picture and, holding Dean close, he moved them forward so that he could see it properly.

"We got married?"

Dean smiled through tears. "Yeah, baby. We got married. It was… it was perfect."

Piers looked down at Dean. "I look forward to it, then."

Dean nodded, but he was still crying silently, clinging to Piers. Piers understood the sentiment, couldn't imagine how he'd feel knowing that someone had died and yet holding them at the same time.

All of a sudden it dawned on him just how much Dean must have put up with through the years and he hugged him tighter, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I love you," he murmured.

"I love you too. I hoped," Dean admitted. "I was… I… I hoped. That you'd come back. That I'd see you again."

Piers nodded, pulling Dean over to the sofa in the living room. "Listen to me," he murmured. "I don't want you waiting for me, okay? You can't… You can't put your life on hold waiting for me to come back when I might… I might never get another chance. I might not appear again, Dean, and you can't keep holding on for me."

"I don't want to let you go," Dean whispered.

"Live your life," Piers implored. "And later, when we're both gone… then we'll have time, okay?"

Dean sniffed, snuggling closer. "You believe in the afterlife?"

"I'm a time hopper, and you're a wizard. Yeah, babe, I believe in the afterlife."

Dean let out a watery chuckle. "Okay. Okay. But… just for now. Just for now, can you let me pretend that I don't have to say goodbye?"

"Whatever you need, Dean."

…

"Hey you," Piers said, walking towards Dean. He was sitting on a park bench, a sketchbook on his lap. "How old are you today?"

Dean's head shot up and he stared at Piers like he was seeing a ghost. "You… you're here, you're _here!"_

Piers blinked. "Why would I not be?"

"It, you, and I…"

Piers could only watch on in confused concern as tears filled Dean's eyes. He moved closer to the bench, only hesitating for a split second before he sat down, wrapping his arm around Dean's shoulders.

"Hey, whatever it is, it's okay," he murmured, hoping he was being comforting but not really knowing.

Piers didn't have much experience with the whole… being nice thing yet. He was working on it.

Dean shook his head, leaning into Piers. He sobbed into Piers' shoulder, leaving a wet patch behind on the material.

"M'sorry," Dean said eventually, hiccuping. "I just… the last few weeks have been… a lot."

"Is this about the, erm, thing. The wizard thing?" Piers still wasn't sure about the whole magic thing, but hey, if he could time hop around the place for shits and giggles, why couldn't Dean be a wizard?

Maybe one day, Piers would hop to Dudley's side and find out he was actually a merman all along or something.

Huh. Not a merman. Maybe a troll?

He shook his head and turned his attention back to Dean. Even with tears streaking down his face, he was still handsome. When he gave Piers a shaky smile, Piers couldn't help but reach out and wipe the tracks away, caressing Dean's cheek.

Dean's eyes widened for a moment and then he leant forward.

It wasn't the first time Piers had kissed Dean, but it was the first time Dean had kissed Piers and his lips were tentative and sweet in a way they'd never been before.

Piers thought it might be the best not-first-first-kiss ever. And then he stopped thinking because the logic of it still gave him a headache.

…

"Hey kid, are you okay?" Piers asked, looking up at the child in the tree. He barely managed to hold his smirk when he realised it was Dean squirming on the branch and trying to look cool.

"M'fine," Dean replied. "Just… hanging out."

"What are you doing up there?"

"Drawing," Dean said, holding up a sketchbook. "Leaves are pretty."

Piers caught a glance of the sketch on the paper and he raised an eyebrow. It was pretty good, considering that Dean looked about six or seven. He'd known Dean was talented, of course, but he hadn't realised he'd started so young.

"Well, how about I help you down from there, and you can show me how to sketch, cause that looks pretty good, and I'm a _terrible_ artist."

"Not supposed to talk to strangers," Dean mumbled, but he was looking longingly at the ground.

"I'm Piers," Piers introduced himself. "There you go, we're not strangers anymore. Here, hand me your paper and pencil."

Dean hesitated for a moment, before he did as he was told. Piers balanced them on the tree trunk carefully, and then raised his hands. "Slide down from the branch, and I'll catch you, okay?"

Dean swallowed nervously, but nodded. He gripped the branch with small hands and lowered himself. Thankfully, he wasn't too high up the tree and Piers could grasp his legs easily.

Carefully, he helped Dean down to the ground.

"Thanks mister," Dean said, gratitude shining in his eyes.

"Piers. How about you show me how to draw, eh?" Piers sat down cross legged on the floor, his back to the tree trunk. Dean sat beside him, and immediately started rambling as he showed off his drawings.

Piers offered praise to each of them, asking questions and just let Dean's chatter wash over him. He was so _cute._

Piers grinned to himself. He'd have to be sure to tell Dean just how adorable he'd been when he was little. It was sure to earn him a glare and possibly get him attacked by flying pillows, but it would be so worth it.

…

Piers didn't understand what was happening. There were flashing lights, and shouting and screaming and people running around an old abandoned warehouse and he didn't know what to do.

He knew when this was, because over the years he'd spent with Dean, he'd held his husband through the nightmares.

Usually though, he hopped right beside Dean, and this time, he couldn't see him.

Ducking away from a flying light, he searched the nearby corridors and rooms, looking for any sight of Dean. When he finally found him, it was to see him covered in cuts and blood and sweat and literally _fighting for his life._

Hearing about the nightmares and seeing it in action was something Piers could never have been ready for.

He was about to call out to Dean when he saw a flash of sickly yellow flying towards him. Piers acted on instinct and ran, getting in front of Dean just in time to feel himself being sliced in multiple places.

He fell, landing hard on his back, and a moment later, he managed to focus on Dean crouched beside him.

"Piers! Piers, what are you… you can't be here, this isn't… why did you…"

"Ouch," Piers said, his eyes watering from the pain. He felt dizzy, and blackness was encroaching on the edges of his vision.

Dean placed a hand on one of the slices, trying to stem the bleeding. Piers reached up clumsily to pat his cheek. "I'll be okay."

He could feel the tingles in his body that said he was about to hop. "I'll be okay," he repeated, and then he was gone.

…

His dad was ranting, and Piers clung to his seatbelt as the car swerved outrageously on the motorway. He had a bad feeling in his stomach, and he wanted to tell his dad to stop, to concentrate on the road because...

Piers rolled onto his back. He was lying meters away from the burning wreckage of his dad's car.

He didn't… he remembered a tingling feeling, but apart from his head, he didn't feel any pain. He sat up as people came running towards him and then...

He was in the hospital and he didn't know how he'd arrived there, and then...

He watched his dad shove him towards the car, ranting and raving. He could see his dad swaying slightly and he almost fell as he climbed into the driver's seat. He tried to call out a warning, tried to tell himself _to get out of the car_ but he felt the telltale tingle and then...

…

 _The time hops had never had any rhyme or reason, but Piers thought that perhaps that didn't matter. He'd been there for the important parts of his life, he'd seen the important parts of Dean's life._

 _It was hard, but they'd fought fate, and they had memories that Piers wouldn't ever trade for anything._

 _Not even a normal life._


End file.
